Memories that Fade


Outside in the field of overgrown turf
Children leap and hide with overjoyed laughs
The setting so perfect, like newborn dreams
Only peace, in the morning dew weeds all around
Pure innocence, the token for entry.
Just a memory now is that friendly field.
Metal rusts.
Wood creaks.
Don’t step on the nails.
A wish for a time when ignorance was bliss.
When all the worries blew away in the wind like memories that fade.

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This Poems Story

In one of my childhood homes, there was a massive field behind our house that we called the backyard and although we did not own the land, we made it our own. We played hide and seek in the tall dry grass. There was a small shed in the center of the field with a bright red motorcycle leaning against it. I wish I had a picture. This poem is about what my childhood was. It was playing and getting dirty without thought and enjoying the nature and beauty that can be found outside in a field. Like the shed, wood creaks and metal rusts. Growing up, we need to be careful where we step. I no longer feel innocent. We are consumed daily by heartache, tragedy, adversity, and stress. My childhood field has been replaced by a big house full of new worries that can't blow away in the wind.